


i want you to stay by me and believe

by hecksalmonids



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sword & Shield | Pokemon Sword & Shield Versions
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person, warning for mention of minor blood/injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28708338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hecksalmonids/pseuds/hecksalmonids
Summary: Hop's eyes are like gold, and you don't know why you deserve to be around him when you were the one who ripped his dreams from him.
Relationships: Hop & Masaru | Victor, Hop & Yuuri | Gloria, Hop/Masaru | Victor, Hop/Yuuri | Gloria, can be any of these. i don't even know what i wrote it as
Comments: 7
Kudos: 33





	i want you to stay by me and believe

**Author's Note:**

> First SwSh fic, finally! I've wanted to release one since last October.  
> Internally, I kept switching between platonic and romantic and Victor and Gloria when writing this, so any way you choose to interpret this isn't wrong.  
> Title is from [Acacia](https://youtu.be/4dnT-kKIO6Y) by BUMP OF CHICKEN.

_Was it ever your dream? Or did you steal his?_

You've been asking yourself right from the start of it all. Right from the moment you looked into his eyes, back then.

The first thing anyone notices about Hop has always been his liveliness. Though your families would take note of his grin (and his tendency to run into doorframes), you always saw it in the golds within his eyes. You always saw them sparkle every time your parents let the both of you camp out in the yard, every time Wooloo would nuzzle his leg to be picked up, every time he heard from his mum that the celebrity he loved the most was coming home to visit.

And when you and your Scorbunny stood victorious over him, the first time, you watched as the glimmer in his eyes dulled for the first time. And you began to wonder.

Everything is so much bigger now, outside the limits of sleepy Postwick, where the biggest threat was the pranks of the Whimsicott that flew in on the wind or the ghost stories about the Weald that you always laughed about together in secret. Now your worries have gone to Grimmsnarls and Coalossals and Duraludons, the stadiums of Circhester and Spikemuth and Hammerlocke and _Wyndon_ , and you hear the shouts of a thousand excited fans and maybe it was a little thrilling and you wanted to show off a bit but you were never half the dreamer that Hop was and you locked eyes with him on the other end of the pitch and _it wasn't supposed to be like this._

What wouldn't you give to turn back the clock, return to when you could sprawl out with him on the rug in his room that you loved to lie on, an empty biscuit tin between you as he complained about the telly downstairs? The stadium was just fantasy then, sealed firmly behind a screen and keeping you safe from Charizard's flames while he excitedly talked about battle tactics that you never really understood.

You know it all like the back of your hand now, and the screen has swallowed you into its world, and when his Rillaboom explodes in defeat with Dynamax-fueled flames you know for certain that this is the world where your worst fears come true.

Hop is resilient. It's a fact you've known your whole life. It's a fact you can trace with your fingers on his skin and yours, the nicks you both earned from oddly sharp rocks on the farm soil and the bruises of bullies that always underestimated the two of you, marks that have long since faded yet left their memories behind in your minds. You watched him take it all in stride, the light in his eyes never fading even for a second, and you know that none of it was ever enough to hurt him, not really.

You can see his eyes now, and they don't shine. They don't shine anymore. Everything is so much bigger now, including the wounds you deal. 

So you stand here among the best of the best, and one question ravages your mind:

_Was it worth what you did to him?_

* * *

You're running through the Weald now, and it's wrong, it's wrong.

Sonia isn't bad company, and you're more than capable now of handling yourself within the fog, but Hop's not there. Hop's not by your side, not like he used to be, every other time you ventured into the mists out of childish moxie or necessity. He's so far ahead of you now, waiting where the sunlight breaks through the foliage, and you can't help but think as you run through the shade and the grass that maybe it was always like this. Maybe even at the lowest he's ever been, he always managed to run ahead of you, and maybe you don't know if you can catch up anymore.

By the time you've reached him, he's caught the legendary sword of Galar without his Pokémon loosing a single attack. A Pokéball is in his hand as he stands on the altar to challenge you to a battle, and you remember just how much you've missed the glint in his eyes.

So you accept,

and you fight,

and you win like the Champion you are.

He's even brighter from the loss, and no matter how much you wish it weren't this way, you know the reason for it. You know that you've freed him from everything he used to want, everything that _you_ became, and he can finally move on to something that he wants _now_ , something he _loves_ more than he ever did your silly little title.

And maybe it's better this way, maybe you can keep the gleam in his eyes alive if you let him forget you, maybe he would be happy if he disappeared through the mists and never let you hurt him again, maybe you're speaking out loud now and you're just a bit jealous and just a lot selfish and you're a terrible friend and he's better than you ever were and you need him, you can't let go of him, _please don't go, please, Hop, don't go…_

Once upon a time, you smashed your nose jumping a fence with him to catch a Wooloo, and he didn't leave your side as you caught your bearings and wiped the blood off your face.

Once upon another time, you were faced with a choice between three Pokémon, three partners, and you chose the bunny that reminded you so much of the boy next to you.

Once upon the worst time, you faced off against the herald of Galar's nightmare, and he stood shoulder to shoulder with you as you fought, a sword and shield in perfect harmony.

Here in the depths of the Slumbering Weald, where things make sense now like they didn't before and you're so close and so very far from home, you fit together like puzzle pieces as he wraps his arms around you and you bury your face into the down of his jacket, and you think that maybe, just maybe, the both of you are where you're meant to be.

* * *

You just _talk,_ in the end.

It seems like such a simple solution, in hindsight, but you're still young and still stupid and Hop was always the talkative one. But you find that you've picked the habit up from him, or you've needed this for far too long, because the words come naturally to you when you try. You set up the stakes on the tent, he gets a fire going because he's always gotten cold more easily than you do, and neither of your lips stop moving until well after night falls. You talk about the big and the small, about everything and nothing, about hopes and worries and Escape Ropes and curries and you start to realize why he's always worn his heart on his sleeve for all these years.

You can hear his soft snores now, and you're still wide awake, but you never expected to sleep tonight in the first place. 

_"You can't have come this far without a dream, mate. Let yourself have it."_

You know that Hop's stronger now than he's ever been. His words plant their roots in your head, now that the fog of your guilt has faded somewhat, and you're starting to see the truth in them.

Somewhere along the line, even though you didn't know it, you found a dream of your own. It took you through winding routes and sprawling cities, showed you allies and rivals and friends, made you the best that the Pokémon League has to offer.

There's some things that you understand now and so much more that you want to, and though his future has taken a different path from yours you know that he has questions and answers of his own. Neither of you are the same as you were on the day you boarded the train at Wedgehurst, but you've always been stuck on each other like glue, and old habits die hard. You'll stay by each other's side, time and time and time again.

Maybe it's enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> boy am I glad that I didn't have to provide nicknames for pokémon, cause I named my scorbunny RedditMoment and that would have taken all the seriousness out of this fic  
> check out [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28471242) by my friend, victor swsh in real life, to see what the line about hurting your nose is referencing!  
> kudos and comments appreciated as always <3


End file.
